On my Friday morning walk to work I came across this ex-Christmas tree, stripped of all its finery and chucked on the footpath for all the world to see.
Continuing down Queensdale Road I found another one rotting in the rain, then another, until an entire scene of undignified decay surrounded me.
This made me sad.
Not so much because my Christmas is over, but because for the first time I was alerted to the spectacular fall from grace these Christmas trees experience.
I mean think about it. They grow up in special forests geared for rapid growth, and their single purpose in life is to be selected for the job. Those displaying the greenest hue are handpicked, invited into family homes and all done up in lights. A glittering star is placed atop its canopy They become guardians of gifts, and take centre stage on the most celebrated day of our calendar year. They feel truly special, like they’ve really made it in life.
And for what?
After presents are opened and bellies are filled, they’re tossed naked into the street and forgotten about. Consider this chap:
He’s in danger of being slammed by a 4WD Volvo during the school run. And this guy here:
His adopted family has left some of the shiny bits on as a cruel reminder of how things once were.
The worst part about this whole stinking caper is that it appears the residents of Queensdale Road acted in unison. I can just picture them the night before, nibbling their barn-reared turkey leftovers together and plotting the overthrow:
“What do you say everyone, let’s grab the things in the dead of the night when they least suspect it, and drag them swiftly to the footpath.”
“Quite.”
Should there be a home for abandoned trees? A place where they can reminisce about their tinsel days, and decompose together in privacy and peace?
Just a thought.
Gretel Hunnerup is convinced that in a past life she was a carrier pigeon, such is her love of taking fanciful flights and posting little stories about her discoveries to her independent online pigeon hole: www.thecarrierpigeonpost.com.
The Australian sticky beak now writes about the little-known delights that make London hum…stuff that wouldn’t make the papers, like quirky establishments, not-for-tourists pursuits, and ordinary folks doing surprising things.
A trained journalist with six years travel and lifestyle writing for print and web, Gretel has taken a new post heading up internal communications for STA Travel’s Northern Europe and Africa Division, geared for maximum on-the-road reportage. Oh and she’s a sucker for documentaries, dress-up parties and dolmades.
